


original sin

by moonlitdrive



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Biker AU, M/M, Smut, also incubus au?, danger handjob :), i still find it hilarious that i always forget to tag fics with actual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitdrive/pseuds/moonlitdrive
Summary: Bin's incubus boyfriend can be a pretty bad influence.
Relationships: Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	original sin

**Author's Note:**

> some points to be made:  
> 1\. i don’t know anything about incubi/succubi  
> 2\. i don’t know anything about motorbikes  
> 3\. i do know a thing or two about smut  
> 4\. please enjoy

“Where are you going?”

The sound of Dongmin’s voice oozes around the corner, sensuous and slightly sibilant in a sweet kind of way. It’s followed by the incubus’s sinuous form, clad tastefully (after much defiance on Dongmin’s end) in a drapey black top with billowing sleeves, the neckline of which ends somewhere around his navel. (This was a hard-earned compromise - if the incubus had had his way he’d be happily clad in nothing at all.) He leans against the wall with a luxurious ease that seems so practiced it’s natural, canting his hips to one side in perfect contrapposto.

Bin sighs from where he’s shoving things haphazardly into his rucksack. “Just to the club and back,” he says distractedly, rooting in the depths of his bag to make sure that his bouncer nametag is in there. It emerges reluctantly, and he packs it away in the front pocket of his rucksack, determined to remember where he’s put it this time. “They need someone to cover tonight’s shift. I’ll be back home after that.”

Dongmin lets out an exaggerated groan, his shoulders slumping almost audibly. “But it’s your night offfff.” He pushes off the wall and stalks across the room to Bin, turning the messy living room into a five-second catwalk. A tail, corporeal and yet not, lashes obstinately in the air before curling around Bin’s calf, tickling his ankle.

“Yeah, I know, we’ll have to watch a movie much later tonight. If I’m still awake when I get back,” Bin says, leaning over the couch to grab his leather jacket. Dongmin loves when he wears the leather jacket, which is both amazing and inconvenient because the jacket is part of his unofficial uniform at the club.

“Hah!” Dongmin scoffs, not unkindly. “After four months of me being here you still believe we’re just going to  _ watch a movie _ when you get back,” he taunts, fingers suddenly creeping around the curve of Bin’s hip, pressing gently yet possessively into his waist like the way marble statues of gods hold onto their kidnapped damsels. Except Bin is no damsel, even if Dongmin  _ is _ basically ethereal.

He tries to ignore the deliberate heat that curls from Dongmin’s fingers like smoke, pushing his hand away even as Bin leans in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Dongmin’s jaw. “Look, I can’t just tell people that I can’t be on call on my night off because I’ve gotta stay in and have incredible sex with my gorgeous incubus boyfriend.” The mere touch of Dongmin’s skin to his lips sends the ghost of a tingle down his spine, and Bin has to tear himself away before missing his shift becomes the only option tonight.

The incubus tilts his head coyly. “But you get good karma points for telling the truth,” he singsongs, tailing Bin around the apartment as Bin unplugs his phone and grabs his keys.

“My boyfriend the incubus, immortal demon from hell, is telling me I get  _ good karma _ for  _ telling the truth _ .” Bin says archly, grabbing his helmet from its spot by the door. “Pigs are now flying.”

“I’ll just come with you,” Dongmin decides spontaneously, shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers whose heels look like they have seen better days.

Bin spins around in the doorway. “You will not.”

Dongmin smiles beatifically, and the innocence he projects would have swayed Bin immediately if not for the ever-so-slight glow of his eyes. “Will too.”

“I’m gonna be late, babe.” Bin hefts the rucksack onto his shoulder and puts a key in the door, jiggling it with a grunt when it sticks in the old lock.

“Not if we go right now,” says Dongmin easily, reaching around Bin and opening the door. Bin growls.

“Fine, but only because I don’t have time to convince you otherwise.” Bin says, hurrying towards the lift. “You little demon.”

Dongmin beams brightly, and one might imagine him a son of the light, had he not been a child shaped from darkness.

In the parking garage, Bin hands Dongmin the spare helmet from his top case, stows his rucksack and swings up onto the seat to steady the bike while Dongmin climbs on. His hands slip confidently around Bin’s waist as he settles in behind, and Bin’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach.  _ Of course. This was the plan all along. _

“Don’t you even fucking think about it,” he warns, as Dongmin presses himself up close, and Bin can feel his boyfriend’s hellfire heat begin to radiate into him through his leather jacket, all down the length of his back.

“You’ll be late,” Dongmin hums, splaying a palm against Bin’s stomach, and he is hyper-aware of the fact that only the thin material of his white t-shirt is keeping their skin from touching right now. Keeping the incubus’s influence from flowing into him.

There’s no time left to argue. The bike revs with an unearthly, echoing roar.

They screech out of the garage.

The bar is a twenty minute ride from Bin’s apartment on a day when there’s no traffic. That’s twenty minutes Bin hopes Dongmin can behave for, but that’s the problem with dating hellspawn.

They never behave.

The bike pulls out of the housing estate, and they blitz down the road like Hermes’s arrow. Dongmin laughs with unadulterated joy at the sheer speed at which they zip and weave past cars, the raw power thrumming below them as they eat up the street like Cerberus versus souls escaping from Tartarus, and despite the way his heart’s pumping Bin can’t help but smile. They don’t go out together too often, since being creatures of the night makes incubuses averse to sunlight, but he knows Dongmin genuinely enjoys riding tandem on the bike. Maybe he’ll be distracted enough not to cause trouble tonight.

A thumb hooking into his belt loop tells him that’s just wishful thinking.

They’ve both got helmets on, but by some accursed magic, Bin still feels the incubus’s breath against his ear. They’ve stopped at a traffic light, and only the cover of darkness prevents other drivers from seeing the way Dongmin’s fingers dance across his crotch. His thumb applies a firm stroke right down the seam, and the pressure sends a thrill through his entire body.

“Cut it the fuck out,” Bin grinds through his teeth, as the light turns green and the bike peels out from behind the stop line. “I mean it.” He knows Dongmin can hear him, through whatever mystical ability demons like him have, and he’s proven right by an answering chuckle that purrs through him like a tidal wave.

“Stop,” he warns again, to no avail. Dongmin kneads at the traitorous bulge in his jeans, and there’s still no skin to skin contact, but his cock swells all the same. Deft fingers ease open the buckle of his belt, and the usually-stiff leather yields like silk. The button of his jeans is the next to go, and it slips from the eyelet as if bidden. Then hands are dipping beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, and he can’t tell if the bike is shuddering or he is.

The city blurs around them as they speed through the city, neon streaks sweeping past them like a rushing river of light parted only by them, the bastion of an island splitting the current. He can’t take his hands off the handlebars, and neither can he pull over, because now they’re on the highway - the big five-lane bridge that crosses over a network of marshy waterways - in the fast lane, and all he can do is keep riding and pray they don’t fucking crash.

His heart thunders in his chest, and he can’t tell if it’s the surge of arousal Dongmin’s plugged into his veins like a lifeline or the adrenaline from knowing that he’s got someone else's hands shoved down his pants while they’re going at 70 miles per hour.

“Eyes on the road, biker boy,” Dongmin croons, even as his fingers finally wrap around Bin’s cock. He’s trying so hard to focus on the road that he isn’t aware of how he’s holding his breath until it’s suddenly too much, and he lets out a lungful of air with a broken moan that’s whisked away in the wind as fast as it’s come. Dongmin’s hand is hot around his dick, and the incubus slides his other hand up the expanse of Bin’s taut stomach as he palms the quickly thickening shaft.

“You keep that up and you’re gonna fucking wreck us,” Bin pants, as he maneuvers the bike through a particular car-heavy section of late-night traffic. If they crash he bets Dongmin will just take the demons-only shortcut straight back to hell and he’ll be left dead in a pool of blood with his pants open, and the thought of that chills him to his bones, but at the same time his pulse ramps up til it’s hammering in his ears so hard he can barely hear himself think. The entirety of his awareness is the road and Dongmin’s hands on his dick.

Dongmin only laughs softly and thumbs at the head of his cock, pressing into the slit with his fingers. There’s not much room afforded by Bin’s jeans and underwear, but somehow (or unsurprisingly, being an incubus) he manages a steady rhythm that feels like he’s teasing Bin’s soul out of his body, the sensation of Dongmin’s hot hands amplified exponentially by the constant rumble-roar of his bike.

They race down the street at a dangerously high speed, so fast nobody can see what’s going on, and the only persons aware of their sin are themselves.

Finally the end is in sight. Bin directs the bike off the main highway, and it’s a few more minutes on a couple side roads - punctuated by Dongmin trying some new hand movements that make Bin’s whole body shiver - before he finally pulls up to the club. The main parking lot is out front, but people are milling around the entrance (as club attendees usually do) and Bin steers them around to the dark alley in the back, where he parks up alongside the wall and rips the key out of the ignition.

Dongmin slips off the bike, shortly followed by Bin, who’s both furious and aroused as hell. Bin slams him against the wall, and though he’s technically immortal and strong as anything, Dongmin lets him.

“I won’t ask what you were thinking because I know you weren’t thinking at all,” Bin growls, his face barely an inch away from Dongmin’s, his breath still coming heavy and hanging between them like smoke.

“But look how much you liked it,” Dongmin points out, his hands dropping again to circle Bin’s cock, which stands up proud and throbbing between them.

Bin bites down on a moan. “You  _ made _ me like it,” he says, incensed but also extremely turned on. “You and your goddamn  _ influence _ .”

Dongmin looks at him benevolently. “Oh, that wasn’t me this time,” he says, a gentle twist of his hand making Bin’s eyelids flutter.

“You are  _ not _ telling me my new kink is toying with death,” he breathes, letting his head fall forward to rest his forehead against Dongmin’s, who lets out a pleased hum.

“I hope not, coz I don’t wanna lose my boyfriend to Thanatos,” he replies almost coquettishly, and Bin finally laughs.

“Just finish what you fucking started then,” he says, sliding a hand into Dongmin’s hair and gripping with some force as he surges forward to finally kiss him on the lips.

It’s torrid like a summer storm, and almost as wet. Their lips don’t so much slide as clash like two titans determined to overthrow each other, and if their teeth collide every so often, the sharp pain only spurs them on. Bin can feel the visceral thrum of Dongmin’s enjoyment, and even if he’s not exerting influence, he’s definitely sharing his own pleasure. His hands drag roughly down Dongmin’s chest and stomach, and he too makes to reach into the incubus’s skin-tight jeans.

“Gimme,” he demands, and Dongmin unbuttons for him. His cock springs free, and Bin grabs both of them in one calloused hand, making them both suck in a shuddery breath at the sudden intensity. He’s dangerously close by now, so Dongmin closes his fingers around Bin’s fist and strokes them together, fast and hard until Bin spills pearly white between them with a strangled cry.

Dongmin gentles him down from the high with a comforting touch to his cheek to ground him, but Bin’s nowhere near done. “We’ve come this far already anyway,” he pants, barely stopping to catch his breath (even as shocks of electric pleasure, so sharp they’re almost painful, spark through his muscles like a live wire) before bending down to half-shimmy, half-peel the jeans off his legs.

A devilish smile quirks the corner of Dongmin’s mouth and he immediately grabs Bin by the shoulders, pushing him against the bike, which creaks on its suspensions as it leans over and then settles with a metallic groan against the wall. With some of that immortal strength he shoves his hands under Bin’s arms and hoists him up so he’s half propped on the seat, back supported by the building behind them. Bin’s heartbeat is a drum solo in his ears, and it doesn’t help that every time Dongmin decides to use his strength, his dick reacts like he’s about to get the greatest fucking of his life. Though to be completely honest, he usually is.

The incubus looks up at him, and his usually-dark pupils glow a bright red.  _ The demon is awake _ , Bin thinks wryly, and his body shivers with anticipation. Dongmin hikes up one of Bin’s legs so it’s hooked over his shoulder, and one slick finger circles his entrance teasingly as Dongmin leans in to taste Bin’s lips again.

“Where did you-”

“Don’t ask,” Dongmin says innocently, even though Bin’s not even surprised by this point. Trust an incubus to procure some kind of lube out of nowhere in the back of an alley. He’s just hoping it isn’t bike grease.

Sooner or later (though for Bin it can’t come soon enough), Dongmin’s decided that Bin has been prepared enough, and he guides the head of his cock up to Bin’s entrance before adjusting his grip (one hand on Bin’s hip, the other on his ass) and thrusting home with the force of an oceanic wave.

Dongmin is usually sensuous and pliant in bed, welcoming Bin into his warmth with joyous abandon when they lie together, which is their usual practice. But every so often Bin wants to get touched from the inside, and when that happens, Dongmin turns into this hungry creature from hell.

He drives into Bin over and over, each powerful thrust shoving him up the seat of his bike, and the beast of metal beneath them keens and rattles in time with Bin’s breathy moans. Dongmin’s searing heat splits him open, burning him from the inside like fire from the depths of the earth, and each of his nerve endings is alight with sensation. Their lips barely touch with how hard they're breathing, and instead Dongmin takes each of Bin’s moans and swallows them like a greedy hellion, even as his hips snap with increasing urgency and Bin’s body threatens to shake apart with pleasure.

The cliff of his orgasm races up to meet him again all too soon, and Bin grabs himself with a dry hand, trying to match Dongmin’s pace while balancing the almost-overwhelming pleasure-pain of working his sensitive dick. And then finally, finally after what seems like an eternity of feeling magma course through his veins, Dongmin’s hips jerk one last time before he comes with a guttural sound, and Bin chases him off the edge and falls into ecstasy.

His vision is sort of blurry for a while, and it takes some time before sounds stop blending into each other. Dongmin’s still holding him up, looking very pleased with himself, and rejuvenated as all hell. Bin is slowly becoming aware of the fact that he’s panting like he’s run a marathon.

“You may be late after all,” Dongmin quips as he helps Bin down from the bike. Bin can only glare at him as he shoves himself back into his jeans, trying his best to neaten his hair, perhaps not look as fucked-out as he does right now even though he’s doubtful that’s possible at all.

They stumble out of the alley, and Bin’s aware that it’s a minor miracle nobody walked in on them the entire time. Then again, it’s more likely anyone daring to peek into the alleyway would have sensed the sheer otherworldly desire radiating off of the two of them and quickly reversed their steps.

He clocks in ten minutes late, and if anyone at work notices Bin’s rumpled t-shirt and kiss-swollen lips, they don’t say anything. Dongmin spends the entire time chatting up a bartender, who keeps giving him drinks “on the house” and conveniently not getting drunk because mortal alcohol doesn’t work on immortals.

They go home together after work and Bin throws Dongmin onto his bed the moment they get back.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Sometimes Dongmin wonders how Bin isn’t an incubus himself.

**Author's Note:**

> you may realise that i have basically thrown together a bastardized mythological conundrum with my endless greek mythology references in a fic about an incubus and my entire explanation is that i have played 30 hours of hades in the past 4 days (great game, go play it) and that’s it really. but thanks for allowing me to suspend your reality for 2890 words again so i can write my indulgent motorbike incubus porn :)
> 
> (what i made up if anyone’s vaguely curious is that incubuses/incubi in this universe can exert much more influence over their targets through skin-to-skin touch, though they can choose whether to be actively exerting it at any one moment or not. also why is dongmin even here? who knows! :) )
> 
> and thank you for reading :-)


End file.
